Conflict of Interest
by Amavelos
Summary: The Avengers are well known to be the heroes of Earth. However, what if that status they imposed on themselves becomes their worst enemy? SHIELD Director Nick Fury had said it himself: the world is quickly filling up with people who can't be defeated. (I have no idea what genre this is. It might change quite a bit.)
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, so, this is my first fic I'm going to commit myself to until the very end. An Avengers fic. It's a great way to start out XD_

_At first, it may seem like this isn't, but I promise you'll get to see at least one of the Avengers near the end of this chapter. He loves you, so he wants you to get to the end._

_Is this a Avenger/OC fic? No. Not really. I mean, I was actually thinking about taking a vote on that one later on. Are there going to hints toward it? Oh yes._

* * *

The director stared at the files in front of him. All of them were legitimate. The only question sitting on his mind now was: exactly how long this little conspiracy had been going on for? Since the beginning of his administration? During the campaign? Had it occurred in the last presidency?

He even had his investigation division make formal tests on the documents on his desk to see if they were genuine reports made by the CIA's division of monitoring. They were indeed from the division. They were simple tests, really, all one had to do was apply lemon juice to a specific part of the sheets of paper and reveal the infamous emblem for the CIA. Each division had their own designated spot on their documents. The monitoring division's spot was placed on the upper right hand corner of each paper, which the emblem was plainly visible now as the director skimmed over the reports again.

He closed the folder he had currently been viewing and set it aside on his desk. Slowly, he brought his hand to the black receiver and picked it up, dialing his secretary immediately. "Get me Agents Storms, Grey, Shepherd, Cortez, and Eriksson. Immediately."

* * *

It wasn't necessarily easy being a top black operations agent. Sure, she wasn't ranked first, she was actually fourth, but who gave a damn? She was number one in her own head. Except it would be difficult working with others. She was a one-woman team; she didn't need anyone else, but Director Bergerson seemed to think she needed help.

Whatever, she told herself. Not a problem. It wasn't that big of a deal. Okay, well, it was, but that was beside the point. The point was that her and...everyone else were facing maybe the largest crisis that had ever occurred since the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was her obligation to defend and protect the country, and so here she was.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm excited to work with my wife again," she heard one of them say. She furrowed a brow and looked up at Shepherd. The sound of his voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

"We were never married," she replied softly, returning her attention on the file she had been studying.

"Hmm, yeah, don't remind me I wasted thousands of dollars on a wedding and ring to find out you never turned in the wedding certificate. That hurts."

"I got twenty thousand out of the ring, thanks," she pursued, turning a page. She was rather interested in this particular individual. Blonde haired and blue eyed, and born in a different time. Of course, she had already known about the super soldier Steve Rogers, but she never thought she would get the chance to actually come face to face with him.

The agents were all gathered around one large circular table. She had met Eli Shepherd before, of course. They were married for only four months until one day she put their marriage on the line in a game of poker. He had won and she demanded for a divorce. Shepherd laughed it off at first until she had promptly told them they weren't even married anyways, at least legally.

The second agent she knew very well: Tanner Grey. Grey was perhaps maybe forty-five years old, and the man who had recruited herself to this particular division of the CIA-black ops of course.

"Violet?"

Violet looked up at Grey, her attention completely captured. She dropped the file on the table and smiled at the grey-haired man. "Yes?"

"Your input on the assassinations?" his flat blue eyes studied her thoroughly, as if wondering if maybe she was one hundred percent in on the plans.

Violet dry swallowed, realizing that she hadn't heard a drop of the conversation. Her face remained totally indifferent as she quickly thought of a single sentence to say to try and get the attention away from her. "Right, yeah, some guys..."

Grey narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah. Some guys. More specifically, how about six ambassadors and the VP, okay?"

Violet gave him a sheepish grin. "Yeah, of course. I can deal with them. What is everyone else doing so I can just keep tabs?" She began picking up the seven individual files, and set them aside on the table, clearing the way for their current discussion.

"I'm in charge of the assassination of our dear President, and I also want to burn down the Capitol building. Grey here is going to help Eriksson hack into the Pentagon's tech department and take down their communications. After that, he's going to go take out the Speaker of the House. You already know what you're doing, and to ensure escape for both Grey and I, we'll be taking some uhh," Shepherd paused, completely forgetting the word as he looked toward another agent.

He had a cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in one hand as he shielded the flame from any disturbance as he lit his cigarette. His dark eyes landed on Violet for a moment before they flickered away to return Shepherd's rather lost look. Carefully, he took the cigarette in between his index finger and thumb, removing the cigarette from his lips, and blew out a soft, grey cloud of smoke before smiling at him in a devious manner. "Tetrodotoxin," he answered with one word.

Violet raised a brow. She was rather impressed. She was no poison expert, of course, nor did she possess the amount of knowledge Marco Cortez did, but she recognized the name of the poison easily. It was one of the most deadly venoms in a living organism. Tetrodotoxin was commonly found in the Japanese pufferfish, _fugu_, and was considered to be one of the most sought after foods in the world because of its toxicity. "If I may ask, how the hell did you manage to get a hold of _fugu_ venom?"

Cortez took another puff from his cigarette before giving some amount of attention to Storms. "Being that I'm supposedly a world renowned poison expert, I would think that the Japanese would happily hand me over some samples, don't you think?" he placed the cigarette back in his mouth, allowing it to burn for a few more moments before inhaling the fumes Violet had found disgusting and a terrible habit to develop.

It was a silent for a little bit longer before the fifth agent decided to finally speak up. "Yes, Cortez, you're package did arrive, by the way," his voice was thickly accented, being that he was actually an immigrant from Sweden. Hans Eriksson had only worked with the CIA for a short time now, but he was once someone who worked in Sweden's _Säkerhetspolisen_. He sought out political asylum in the States when his career and life became endangered with a storm of an investigation within Säpo.

"Thank you, Hans," Cortez curtly replied, emptying the ashes of his cigarette in a glass tray.

The discussion proceeded for a few minutes more before Violet had finally yawned, finally feeling her eyes drooping from exhaustion. She had been up for more than twenty-four hours now with the meeting with Bergerson on their new mission. "I'm heading to bed. I need some sleep before heading off to kill people first thing in the morning, y'know?"

Shepherd scoffed. "Always need eight hours of beauty sleep, Violet?"

Violet gave him a sharp look as she narrowed her brown eyes at him. "Yes, in fact, I do need my eight hours of beauty sleep. How do you think I get laid more than you do during the week, Eli?" She eyed the files before grabbing all of them. Violet had to get her research done if she were to be performing this mission at the top of her game. It was to her expectations she did.

A small amount of weakly suppressed laughter rose from the three other agents. Shepherd gave them all a sharp glare before shrugging. "Yeah, whatever," he finally mumbled, thinking of no good retort to Violet's stab of words. She had a forked tongue; that was for sure.

"Goodnight, team," she simply bade before heading to one of the beds within the department.

* * *

Cigarette smoke trailed from Marco Cortez's mouth as he busily worked the commercial coffee brewer for five. His almost black eyes focused in on the measurements, making sure they were absolutely and perfectly one tablespoon in volume each as every scoop was added into the paper filter. Syringes lay strewn about on the same counter. Each and every one of them had been sterilized to oblivion. Sharp and chrome colored needles lay within a box on the round table the agents had all previously occupied the night before, along with a rather large bottle filled with clear liquid that could easily had been mistaken for water. No label had occupied the face of the glass, but no one needed the label to know this was the package that had arrived for Cortez yesterday.

"Cortez, I would appreciate if you get your shit tobacco away from the coffee," Tanner Grey snapped at him. The middle-aged man was kicked back up on the couch, using the coffee table as a footrest. In his hands he held a rather intimidating-looking pistol. It had been unloaded and he quietly polished the gun; his light blue eyes boring into the back of Cortez's head.

"And I," she said rather tiredly, closing the door behind her softly, "would appreciate getting you filthy and disgusting feet off the coffee table. Were all of you raised in a fucking barn? Or were you all just born stupid?" Violet narrowed her brown eyes at the men. She hated having to live with men. They were all disgusting and vile pigs.

Grey's blue eyes snapped to her and a snarl crossed his face. "Good morning, dear Violet. I hope you're not always such a bitch in the morning."

"I'm only a bitch when you're an ass."

He growled low in his throat before turning his attention again to Cortez. He still had not removed himself from the kitchen with his damned cigarette. Grey again looked at Violet before shrugging and making a rather dramatic sigh. "Shep, you must have been drunk when you said your vows."

Eli Shepherd looked up from his cell phone. He had been watching a football game that had been recorded for himself. "Uhh, well, we never got married technically, so I guess it was just acting for some director who wasn't filming. It would have made a damn good movie too. Won a few Golden Globes or some kind of crap like that. I sure as hell believed it." His hazel eyes narrowed a little as the opposing team scored a touchdown. Today wasn't exactly his day.

Violet scoffed and made her way into the kitchen, still within the process of fully becoming alert. It was six in the morning, and still dark outside. She hated waking up early, and she most of all hated being in the same room as Eli and Grey. The two together...she could easily compare them to oil and water. They simply did not mix. Shepherd and Grey were the top agents in the black operations division, Grey being the first, but they had hardly worked together. This operation in which all the top five agents had come together, this was the first time any of them had worked with each other for such a period of time as they had expected and for such as large as objective as well.

Hans Eriksson, the only non-American in the room, suddenly cleared his throat. All four of the agents turned to look at the Swede. "If you are all done bickering," he nearly hissed the words, his steel grey eyes landing on each and every one of them. "We have an operation to go over. You know how it is, my lovely, _fellow_ Americans." He ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. That last sentence he had allowed to be rich in his accent, underlying the fact that he was not at all their fellow American.

Shepherd quickly turned off his phone, holding it for a bit before he shifted nervously; resting his weight on one leg as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets; he turned around to face the Swede. "Alright, partner," he called on Hans. "Let's get this rodeo started then."

Eriksson scoffed at him before holding a hand out in Violet's direction. "Where are the files?" His steely eyes were locked on Shepherd still, trying his best to intimidate the higher-leveled agent.

Violet reluctantly handed the seven folders over. Her brown eyes flitted capriciously between Shepherd and Eriksson, and she decided that they just might end up trying to kill each other. "Hans, will you please hurry and take your snapshots so we can get on with the plan?" she requested quietly in Swedish.

Eriksson seemed surprised as he looked toward Storms. "I can read and deliver our plan at once," he answered back in his native tongue. He paused for a second as he opened up the first file, taking in the content for merely a second before turning the page. The agent then cleared his throat gently before looking up at the rest of the five. "Grey?"

"I am to assassinate the Speaker of the House, John Slater, and then report to you to further assist you into the infiltration of the Department of Defense's technological infrastructure. Once successful, I am to immediately be present at the Pentagon to make it appear as I am the one sole culprit. Upon being detected, I am to take Cortez's syringe he gives me today and willingly inject tetrodotoxin intramuscularly into my body, releasing the poison that is precisely measured out to make it appear as if I had died, when truly, I will not."

"What did you do, Tanner, memorize the whole fucking thing?" Cortez blatantly inquired, snuffing out his cigarette in an old glass of water. Violet's lip curled in disgust for the man. She would never understand what was wrong with his attitude.

"If I did, is there a problem? I'll kill you," Grey snarled in retort.

Everyone was suddenly very aware that it wasn't an empty threat. Cortez laughed it off, shaking his head before crossing his arms and looking expectantly at Eriksson. "What's next?"

"Shepherd?"

"Well," the second ranked agent started. "Kill the president. Then go burn a building. How's that? More specifically, I get to lock some people inside the building-specific Congressman-and then burn down the Capitol. Or at least damage it a lot. And then take poison"

"Storms?"

Violet raised her eyes to look at Eriksson. "Right. Kill six ambassadors and I'm going to kill the vice-president." The rest of her plan was to be left unsaid, mostly for security. She felt herself ball her fists a little, as if steeling herself for something she was expecting, but no danger was present. It was an odd feeling.

"Good. And Cortez and I simply stay here. We are not to be caught. I will set up everything I need to here. Violet, I promise you we'll stay in touch. Nothing is going to work against you as long as I'm here, understood?"

Violet never replied. She stiffly nodded and turned away, disappearing once again in her room to ready herself for the events that were soon to come. She removed her shirt and tossed it on the bed she had shared with Shepherd last night. They hadn't done anything, but there were only three beds and the couch. Violet found some sort of grace for him. After all, she wasted four months of her life pretending she had been married to the idiot.

Violet sighed, running her hands through her dark hair. She forgot to buy a utility belt for keeping small essential objects. She would have to resort to using pockets.

* * *

The shade felt nice in the warm heat of the day as she sat rather relaxed next to a large sniper. Violet was dressed casually in a simple white v-neck tee shirt and dark washed colored jeans. It wasn't like she had to run for her life in her other assassinations. The entire map had been plotted ahead of time to the extreme precision of the CIA. The European ambassadors to the States were on their blacklist and were to be taken out immediately.

She quickly checked the time. Violet groaned inwardly. 3:34.

It was time to wish her world goodbye. She was now going to be a prisoner, innocent until proven guilty.

At the same second, she began to hear the approaching vehicle that contained her target, Daniel Calvary. Violet sat up, stretching herself briefly before taking the gun and positioning it until she could clearly see that damned head in the center of the cross. She felt her index finger play with the trigger before she went to squeeze it.

Violet gasped in shock as she was violently pulled back and landed on the ground hard. She looked around wildly, searching for her attacker before she could visibly see them for a second before a sharp pain on her head made her fall into the inky black darkness of unconsciousness.

"Well," Thor remarked as he examined the unconscious woman before him. "This is the one who has murdered six others before?" the thunder god paused before leaning down to pick her up in his arms. She was so tiny and petite; it was hard to imagine that this woman had literally caused Nick Fury to panic from sheer anger over the situation. He had no idea who was doing it, and there had been a number of problems all at once for him this morning. Fury had no choice but to send all of the Avengers out to take care of it.

"We don't know if they're dead or not, _Thor_," his brother hissed from behind him. Thor turned to see his always-in-a-bad-mood of a brother Loki. His green eyes were narrowed at him in disgust and then only narrowed ever so more when he looked down at the woman in his arms. "May I leave?"

"No, Loki. You may not. Here, take this woman," Thor suddenly walked over to him and forcefully dumped his burden on his younger brother. "I must retrieve Mjolnir." Loki growled at the god of thunder and he reluctantly took the brunette assassin. He studied her face in interest for a moment, waiting until Thor's back was turned before he uncaringly dropped her back on the floor and turned on his heel to leave.

"Loki!" Thor called after him. "You do not drop a maiden!"

"Whatever," he nonchalantly said to him. That one word had clearly demonstrated all the distaste he had for even still being alive.

Thor growled, completely enraged over his brother's actions. "Brother, stop, please."

Loki froze. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Thor. "Why do you insist? I am no brother of yours, Thor, and never will I be."

"Loki, you know just as well as I do that if you leave now and do not comply, then you won't be going back to Asgard. Father has given you a chance, and you need to listen," the god's blue eyes were locked on Loki as he spoke. Loki had paused for a moment to weigh his options before giving a defeated sigh. He was right.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Gather that...device the Midgardians use to slay one another."

"I believe it's called a gun," Loki rolled his eyes.

"Yes, very much so; please retrieve it."

Loki took few steps to reach the gun. He picked it up and handled the gun carefully, unsure if it was safe or not. His green eyes went meticulously over the weapon, studying its parts before spotting something that looked like an opening. He picked at it immediately, only to discover that it was the chamber of the gun where the rounds had to be loaded in. Might as well take out whatever that was risking everyone's life.

Loki turned the gun, and only one single bullet fell from the gun. Just one. His dark brows furrowed as he shook the sniper, seeing if maybe more had been lodged inside, but it was a futile effort. There really only was just one round. The god quickly took a mental note that this woman must be confident in her abilities to bring with her one gun and one bullet to take out one victim.

"SHIELD is coming," Thor finally announced, walking over to the woman again. He leaned down and picked her up yet again, seeing as Loki had nothing to do with her.

His green eyes flickered upwards to meet Thor's vibrant blue ones. "Wonderful," he muttered before he retrieved the round that had fallen on the ground from emptying it.

* * *

_And voila! Thanks for reading!_

_Oh, and, no, Loki is not part of the Avengers. I'll explain that. But I just had to have Loki in this. Had to. He's too lovely to not have in a good ol' Avengers fic._


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, hello everyone. I don't believe I ever mentioned that the Avengers are not mine. Nope, they belong to Marvel. I don't own Marvel. I_ _would _like _to own Marvel. So that way I can have all these fabulous characters to myself._

_Hmm, another update. Anyways, I'd like to take my time and thank everyone for reading, following, favoriting, or even reviewing! Thank you!_

* * *

It wasn't hard to tell that she had been locked up in a special kind of handcuffs from behind. A pair she wouldn't be able to escape easily, but it didn't at all disappoint her. One of the SHIELD agents, or worker, or whoever the hell he was, had taken custody of her and led her through the wide halls of SHIELD's headquarters. Violet had thought it wasn't all that smart for her to be left with one person to escort her to whatever prison she was being sent to. She could have easily taken control of the situation, for she didn't need her hands to put up a fight. The combat skills that came with the training to become a top CIA agent involved learning the different types of styles, one in particular only needed hands for balance, but she could easily manage striking someone's skull with one kick. Violet had thought about doing just that, but she then dismissed the desire, all for two reasons.

One: she would be outnumbered considerably. She wasn't the most talented person. There was zero-chance of her being able to escape a full-mounted wave of trained SHIELD agents that would be hell bent on recapturing her and shoving her away somewhere isolated. It was already a failure, and yet is had only been an idea.

Two: Violet had no motive to do so. What would be the point in doing so? There was no reason to. SHIELD would not sentence the assassin to death. They couldn't. It was not an option.

If things had gone as planned, then Grey and Shepherd would both have made it appear that they had committed suicide once they had achieved their objective by injecting the venom into their system, almost enough to be lethal, but only enough to send them into a temporary coma. The poison would slow their metabolism and make the two look as if they were, in fact, deceased. It was a solid plan brilliantly put together by Cortez. Violet thought it was extremely admirable that the poison-expert had contributed so much to the operation, for she knew that Grey and Shepherd would never have thought of such an arrangement.

In turn for the "deaths" of Tanner Grey and Eli Shepherd, Violet would be the only assassin left alive from the entire ordeal. Her escort knew that; she could tell. He remained silent throughout the entire trip, except for the occasional directional command, which she didn't exactly understand as he would only pull her and push her in that direction even if she would comply in the first place. Violet had brushed it off at first, but it was starting to irritate her.

"Left," he gruffly barked at her, once again succeeding to shove her to the left as well before she even had the chance to do so herself. Violet growled low in her throat, wanting so desperately to exact her revenge by taking the heel of her heavy shoe and smashing it into his foot.

A rise of chatter had reached Violet's ears as she walked down the hall. A large amount of conversation, actually. Her brown eyes widened a little as she searched for the source, and to her surprise, was met with a rather good sized congregation of people that had gathered around the corridor. They had all turned to face the approaching prisoner and her captor, their eyes wide as they raised their hands to point and gesture at her.

"Enough! Everyone, clear the halls now! I will create a report to be sent out to every single member of SHIELD this evening!" an authoritative voice rose above the cacophony of noise everyone was making. Violet watched calmly as the crowd suddenly hushed underneath the commanding presence which she still was trying to locate. A moment later, the crowd began to dissipate, revealing the SHIELD Director, Nick Fury, standing in the hall with a somber expression on his face. As normal, he wore a long coat, and just like everything else he wore, it was all black.

Violet arched a brow. "Oh, look, it's a pirate. Is this some sort of joke?" She turned to face her captor, who scowled back at her. She offered him a sweet and innocent smile, only for it to be returned coldly and without a drop of amity.

"Miss Storms-if that is your name-do you think _this_ is a joke? Or is everything a joke to you?" Fury asked harshly, his dark eyes narrowing as he began to approach her slowly.

"Well, actually, I try to find some humor in the little things on a daily basis. It brings joy to the heart. You just happened to be it, Captain Crunch."

Fury crossed his arms over his chest, lifting his chin up to make himself appear larger. Violet scoffed. What was the use? She was already shorter than most. Violet locked her eyes on him, showing that she would not be intimidated by him. She wasn't scared. Fear was something that was meaningless to her. "Why is it we cannot find any information on you, Miss Storms?"

Violet smiled. "Just because you help the world, that doesn't mean they'll help you whenever you need it," she replied coolly, raising a brow at him.

A silence fell between them. His expression remained indifferent, but after a long and charged minute of him staring her down, Fury shrugged and turned his back on her. "Take her to the cell," he calmly ordered Violet's kind chaperone.

Violet was tugged forward again, being guided by that excuse of a human being behind her as she was led to something that resembled a large aquarium. Actually, the glass faces of the cell reminded her of newspaper's editor-in-chief office. Or at least the ones she had seen in movies had been like that-a room of glass. A glass cage, as she once heard it described as. Violet was roughly shoved into the cage, making her turn immediately on her captor to strike at him. She had been successful, landing squarely on his nose. She felt his nose crack under her fist, causing her to feel such a wave of satisfaction for being able to break his nose so easily.

Fury spun around, observing as the agent he had escort her here backed away from her furiously, clutching his nose. Blood dripped from between the cracks of his fingers as his dark eyes viciously bore into Violet's smiling face, his free hand slamming down on a button that locked her up in that glass box of isolation.

"Agent Barton! Rogers! Get your asses in here and straighten this one up," Fury ordered angrily, taking his injured agent's shoulder and pushing him away.

Two men entered from the left, and Violet's eyes had instantly jumped to them. One was taller than the other, and she had immediately recognized him from the files she had previously looked over the other night. Steve Rogers. The other she had recognized not from the files, but from something else, a mission she had done before. She had worked with him before, the one called Agent Barton. Neither of them had looked over in her direction, their attention only directed on Nick Fury.

Tired of standing, Violet narrowed her eyes slightly and turned on her heel, heading for the bench to sit on comfortably until whatever her "straightening out" had to be started. She shut off her ears as well, deciding the conversation wasn't worth her eavesdropping.

"And who exactly is she? Anything we need to know?" Steve asked, shifting his weight on one leg and crossing his arms across his chest. Clint, who was by his side, had merely shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his blue eyes on Fury as he listened in on the situation.

"That's the thing, Cap, there's nothing to keep tabs _on_," Fury responded. "All we know is that her name is Violet Storms, and that she is the one who was involved in our situation we had this morning."

"Whoa, whoa, hang on, you mean _this_ morning? I thought tha-oh," Clint had cut himself off, now clearly understanding the situation. "SHIELD strikes yet again in the media and changes the story to an act of terrorism, am I right?" He began to smile, one that obviously read he knew exactly what was going on.

"Clint-you're basically making an assertion that this...woman," Steve's own blue eyes flickered over to the glass cage, "Is solely responsible for nearly uprooting America's government? Five out of six ambassadors targeted are dead, one still in critical condition, the president, the Speaker of the House, the Capitol is _literally almost burnt down_, and there are hundreds of people dead because of _her_?" He was angry about the entire ordeal. His brows furrowed together as he thought deeply about it. It had been a while since they had faced such a huge threat to the nation. Last time, it was a threat to the world. However, in one day, things had gone from good to absolute chaos. Whoever had done it, especially if it was her, could easily tip the carefully forged balance of the world.

Fury was silent. "She is the only one out of three that was found alive, yes. As of now, Miss Violet Storms is public enemy number one. Not just for the United States either. Storms here, however, is responsible for the deaths of the ambassadors. We were able to capture her right before she was about to pull the trigger on Daniel Calvary. SHIELD has been able to collect little evidence for proof she had been there, but hardly enough to make a concrete case against her."

"Three? Just three?" Steve asked incredulously.

"The last two were males. They didn't hold near as large as a burden as Storms did. We have no identification on them, and we have no idea who they might even be. One was found dead near the Capitol. The other was found dead near the Pentagon."

"Nothing...is known...and this country is now subjected to political turmoil."

"That sounds about right, yes. The executive branch was nearly destroyed, and the legislative branch pretty much is."

"And for the country?"

"Daniel Cavalry was rushed to his little cloister to keep his life safe until we know everything. He's been sworn in as president while being flown in to the bunker on Air Force One. It's up to him and the Supreme Court to decide what's to be done with the Capitol and the hundreds of Congressmen dead today. It's a huge blow."

Steve had done something he normally wasn't accustomed to doing: he swore. Clint looked rather uncomfortable with the entire situation. His eyes were downcast as he subjected himself to a moment of silence.

"Your job, today, and until further notice, is to take Storms and keep her alive and safe. She is our only known source of information for this affair. While you can, do your best to interrogate her. We need information as soon as possible. Storms is the only source we have. So do the best with what you've got," Fury continued, watching calmly as the two Avengers took in the gravity of the situation now presented to them.

"In other words, the country...has literally fallen on its knees," Steve quietly suggested.

"I didn't want to use those words to describe the situation."

Steve then turned his attention on the prisoner in the glass cage. The woman sat on the bench in a relaxed manner, her back leaning up against the farthest glass wall. She seemed to be watching, but her expression betrayed the assumption as she looked bored, and was transfixed on some point beyond. It took her a good minute to realize that the soldier had been watching her. Storms returned his look with a darkened one, and Steve was suddenly unsure if maybe she was the criminal Fury described her to be. She was feminine in appearance. Delicate too, like a damsel-in-distress type of look. Well, she obviously wasn't such a thing, and he was sure if those words were ever said to her face she would probably try to kill them or something horrible and painful would be paid back to them in return.

This Violet Storms character was olive-skinned, but a light olive-skin tone, hinting as some heritage that included Latin blood. Her face defied being full-blooded. She had high cheekbones, full lips, a straight nose, and wide, open eyes. It suggested she had European blood as well. What kind of European blood, however, was left to be unknown. Her hair was somewhat long, brown, and thick, as it fell in large, loose waves onto her shoulders. Violet had run a small and pretty hand through her hair, flipping it to favor one side as she gave Steve a charming and knowing smile from inside her cage. She tilted her chin up slightly to rest her head against the cool glass as she kept those brown eyes on him, picking up one of her legs to cross it over the other as she relaxed even more.

It was a mixture of feelings for Steve. Nothing more could be said on it.

"We'll get straight to work," Clint responded, giving a curt nod to Fury. The director straightened himself into a more formal position and clasped his hand behind him, nodding back at his agent. He gave no acknowledgement as he swiftly exited the cell chamber, leaving the two Avengers alone with the female prisoner.

Steve and Clint looked at each other for a long moment, as if a silent conversation went on between the two teammates before a long banging next to them interrupted the quiet. Steve's eyes snapped to the glass beside him, surprised to see that Violet had snuck up on them. Her brown eyes bore into them both before she seriously started, "Well, well, nice to hear you both talk about me as if I'm not even here. I don't need to tell you my name, and I don't need to hear yours, not because I simply don't care, but because I already know them. So, are you two boys going to try and interrogate me? Because I can dismiss you and ask you kindly for one of you to bring me a magazine if you rather I do that instead."

Steve seemed taken aback. "I-Miss Storms-"

"Oh please. Don't even," she snarled.

He gritted his teeth together. "I apologize, but I will address you however I feel like addressing you. If you're so eager to get an interrogation started, then we will start." He paused as Clint gave him a warning nudge, letting him know his emotions were already getting the best of him. Steve swore silently, casting his gaze downward.

"My name is Violet," she softly continued, her harsh demeanor only letting up only a little.

Clint suddenly grabbed Steve and turned him around. He protested sharply, trying to shove him away. "Steve! Shut up, I have a few things to tell you," he hissed at the captain. Steve stopped at once and gave the archer a quizzical look. "This one...don't let looks deceive you. That's exactly why she is who she is. Appearances are everything for these people. Storms has her way with everyone. She'll know exactly how to get-"

"Honestly, are you both that stupid? I thought the Avengers were supposed to be the world's elite."

Steve turned around, effectively cutting off Clint. His blue eyes narrowed as he looked down at the much shorter Violet Storms. "Well then, _Miss Storms_, obviously you're part of an elite group. It takes someone highly skilled to be able to successfully kill five ambassadors and attempt to kill the vice-president."

Violet remained silent as she looked up at him.

"So what group is it?" he asked irritably.

"You're assuming I'm part of a group?"

"You _are_ part of a group. Who is it? Terrorists? Anarchists?"

Violet broke into a fit of laughter, shaking her head. She had to take a moment to walk away for a second before she turned back towards him with a smile. "I'm not part of any group like that, sir."

"Who employed you?"

"I take pride in being self-employed, thanks."

"So, you're a crazy who thought she could just turn the country on its head, huh?"

The prisoner suddenly fixed with him a hard glare. "I am not in the slightest way close to being insane, Steve Rogers." He felt a shiver go up his spine. She really did know his name. "And did I just think I could cast the country into a state of anarchy? Of course not. Who thinks of that? I was given an assignment and I saw to it that it was finished," Violet smiled at him them, a sweet and innocent sort of smile as she leaned up against the glass, her brown eyes locked on him.

Steve felt uncomfortable. He did not at all enjoy the fact that this woman was able to dance around his questions with such ease and grace; it made him feel sick to his stomach. He had gotten no real answer out of her beside the partial answer that she wasn't part of some anarchist or terrorist group. Steve threw Clint a nervous glance.

"I know nothing about her. Virtually...nothing. I know who she is, and I've seen her work, but other than that, I don't even know where she comes from and how she knows the things she does," Clint responded calmly. "Violet, do you remember me?"

"I do. I've worked on a mission with you in the past."

"Good," Clint stepped forward to hook her attention even more. "Well, then you'll know that you are some sort of agent, for what I'm not sure, but that's why I'm going to politely ask you." He was met with stone-cold silence.

"Violet?"

"You didn't ask me a question."

Clint gritted his teeth in frustration. She was going to be difficult. He wasn't at all good with interrogations, and she obviously knew how to evade the questions they would impose on her. Storms would make it into one little game for herself.

"Did you, or did you not attempt to kill six ambassadors and vice-president Daniel Cavalry?" Steve suddenly demanded glaring at her. His voice had been loud and authoritative, much to Violet's annoyance. She gave him a charming smile then, lidding her eyes.

"I did attempt to kill six ambassadors and the vice-president. However, I did not just _attempt_ to kill them; I succeeded with five of them from what the pirate tells me. Would you like to see what I can attempt to do to you?" she tilted her head to the side as she watched him, that seductive smile still plastered on her face.

It sent Steve reeling. He backed away from the glass as he locked gazes with her, feeling himself flush with embarrassment. She had been so tempting in that moment. He gave Clint a fearful look before he shut himself out and walked out of the room, cursing to himself on Storm's antics and methods of manipulating the entire interrogation. Clint looked back at him with surprise. The captain had hardly lost control, even in tense situations. He cast Violet and angry look before pursuing Steve, catching him by the shoulder, only to be shoved away irritably. Clint gave up shortly afterwards, returning to stand back in front of the glass cage where the prisoner seemed more or less amused by the entire situation.

"Well, you can definitely manipulate men. We're going to have one hell of a time with you, Miss Storms," Clint calmly told her. She only gave him a sweet smile.


End file.
